In Dreams
by xxMistyDuskxx
Summary: Everyone thought it was a miracle. But no, it wasn't. It was Stan. Style, rated T for occasional language. Kyle's POV.


****

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show South Park, or any of it's characters. The only thing I do own is this story.**

**_A/N: This is my first fic, so please don't be too hard on me if it's an epic failure! But please leave a review, even if it does suck. That would make my day! *runs and hides while you read* _**

* * *

In Dreams

Every day was an unchanging routine.

I'd start by awakening from a night of dreamless slumber, in the bed of a room that resembled my childhood bedroom, in a house that resembled my childhood home, with no memory of my yesterdays.

Following my arousal, I'd leave the house to salvage a meal from any of the abandoned houses surrounding my own lodging.

Each house bore a strange resemblance to the houses situated in my long forgotten, childhood neighbourhood. Each, I had discovered, had no inhabitants, whatsoever. But each provisioned me with its own pantry full of sustenance, which I gratefully lived on.

After eating, I would search. I could never remember what I was searching for. I only knew that I had to find it.

Maybe I had been searching for other beings besides myself, who, by some chance, had been residing in that particular town at the same time as me. Maybe I had been searching for some item I had lost long ago that was irrelevant enough to escape my memory, but at the same, important enough to spend much time searching for.

But what I had convinced myself to believe, for the time being, was that I was searching for a way out.

You see, the town was a network of intricate streets, intertwined with one another. There was no way to enter the town from the outside, and there was no way to leave it once you were inside.

Never, despite how hard I racked my brains, could I remember when, or how, I came to arrive in this maze of a town. I possessed no memory of my past whatsoever. And as a result of my aversely secluded circumstances, I held no interest of what the future had in store for me.

So, basically, I didn't give a shit about what was going to happen to me.

The town was spine-chilling maze that had me trapped. It was a lonely place to be, and I would never, ever put myself in such a situation as my current one if I had a choice in the matter. But maybe, once upon a time, I did have a choice. If that was the case, I had chosen incorrectly, by far.

Why the houses in this impersonation of a town were abandoned? I couldn't tell you. All that I could tell you was that there was food in them. But, they had to have had people living in them at one time, though... right?

Where did everyone who previously lived here go? I didn't know. Maybe they died. Maybe they just left the town and all their stuff here to start fresh lives. Maybe there never were any people living here, and the houses just had food in them because, for some inexplicable reason, some heavenly deity put it all there so I could stay alive. I doubted it, but there was no way to find out for sure: I could only guess.

How did I get here? Why was I still here? And why was I _the only one_ still here? Those questions were the ones that bothered me the most. I doubted I'd be getting those answers anytime soon, so I tried not to think about them.

Like I said before, I had no knowledge of the past-no memories of when people had been here. But, I did remember the faces of my family: mom, dad and little Ike, my friends: Stan, Kenny and even Cartman, and everyone I knew of. I just couldn't remember ever interacting with them. And I was certain they had never been stuck in that town with me.

It was so very forlorn, having been stuck there all alone. It was also worrisome. My food supply was diminished a little more each day. There was no way for the food I found in the houses to be replenished, so when my supply was dwindling, I had to divide it into rations while I searched for another source of provisions.

Whenever I had finished off the food from a specific house, I would use a small stone and mark the door to indicate that the house held no more purpose for me.

And I remember that terrifying day that I had realized that I had eaten all the food from every house but one. Every door was marked but one.

I knew I was going to die. There was no way I could have been able to survive once all my food was gone. And I still had not found any other place that would provide me with any more.

The last food-filled house was at the end of the last street, and it was the very last house I had yet to enter.

When I left for that particular house, I took with me a small bag that I had stolen from one another house, and when I arrived, I had loaded up the bag with food from the house's pantry, and flung the bag onto my shoulder.

After that, I began my final journey to find a way out. It was the only chance left for me to leave that place. If I didn't find out how to leave, I would starve and die.

I left the house, picked up a stone, and drew a large arrow on the road pointing to the direction I had decided to walk in, which was north. Then, I had put the rock in my pocket.

My walk began with a jog, ironically enough. I drew an arrow pointing north at every intersection and corner I came to. It had been hard work, and I had walked for hours, only having stopped to eat once that entire period of time.

I only walked in that one direction. The town was too complex with all its twists and turns that, even if the streets were marked with arrows, if I was to turn and make more arrow marks, they would be too obscure to properly comprehend and I would get too lost too easily-a risk I was not willing to take.

Suddenly, I had found that I had arrived at a familiar looking street. At first, I thought I had been having a moment of déjà-vu. But then, it dawned on me that, right before me, there was an arrow pointing in the direction I had come from.

It would only have made sense if I had made a 270˚ turn without realizing it, but that was impossible.

I followed the arrows I believed to be contradictory for what seemed like days. The sun never went down, though. In fact, it seemed to stay stationary in the sky.

I passed through streets that appeared to be the same ones I had passed previously, and although it was as boring and as tiring as hell, I kept walking. And this time, I made sure that I was for certain walking straight and never making any turns.

Soon, I came to discover another odd phenomenon. I stumbled upon a street with another arrow pointing the opposite way I was walking. What the hell was going on?

I was too exhausted to keep going. I stopped and ate the last bit of food I had left before lying on the ground and falling into a deep, exhaustive sleep.

When I awoke, the sun still hadn't moved, I was still too fatigued to stand, and I had only grown hungrier. But I had to go on, or I would starve to death. And even if I died before I could find anymore food, then I would be happy to know that I had died trying rather than sitting on my lazy ass and not doing anything to lighten my situation.

After thinking about it for a while, I made a decision to walk towards the west as opposed to north, or south, or whichever way I had been walking before.

I kept drawing arrows until my rock was nothing more than a small bit of dust. I sprinkled it into the air, and kept walking, not even stopping to get another rock.

I knew it would happen. I would come across a street that would flaunt my arrows directing me to go the way I had come from. And when it happened, I could have burst into tears.

And there was no doubt in my mind that I would have, if I hadn't been dehydrated.

This was the end-I really was trapped. Who was kidding, what did I care? When you have no memory of the past, you are completely alone with no help in sight, and you are bracing yourself for death, you have no real motivation or anticipation for the future.

So I lied down on the road to await my demise.

But that was when I heard the footsteps. Three sets of them. I sat up and turned to face the direction the sound was coming from.

My mind was able to recognize the beings in front of me as Kenny, Stan and Cartman. And even though I don't ever remember associating with them at all, the sight of them brought tears to my eyes.

Cartman had a pained look on his face, and his head was cocked to the side as he stared at me. It seemed like he was worried about me, but trying to hide it.

Kenny's hood was covering his face, but he was smiling with his eyes, and I knew he was happy to see me. It warmed my heart to the core.

And then there was Stan.

His face was hard to decipher. He was smiling at me, and his smile lit up my entire world. But he was crying: tears were falling down his face as if rain was falling from the sky. So did that mean he was happy, or sad?

I then realized his tears were not ones of sorrow, but they were ones of happiness.

At that moment, the three of them reached down and held their hands out to me simultaneously. I stared up at them in surprise, and then I wholeheartedly accepted their offer to help.

Stan's were the hands I grabbed, and he pulled me up as Kenny and Cartman helped hoist me up by my underarms. Then he spoke.

As you probably know, I didn't remember his voice. It was so very foreign to me that it scared me when I first heard it.

"Kyle." That's all he said.

I answered, "Stan, what are you guys doing here?" It scared me when I heard my own voice, also. It had been so long since I'd heard myself talk.

"What do you think we're doing here, Kahl?" Cartman asked.

"I was sure I was the only one who was living in this town..." I told them.

"We're the only ones who can come here", Kenny's muffled voice rang out.

I didn't understand what that meant. "Do you know how to get out of here?" I asked the three of them.

"Of course, don't you?" Cartman said.

"No."

"Do you even know where you are right now?" he asked.

"No. There used to be people here, though, I think."

He laughed. "There was never anyone here but you." Then he disappeared into thin air.

My eyes widened and I reached out into the air where I had stood only seconds ago. He really had gone... he had just vanished.

I heard a giggle, and turned to face whom it belonged to. Kenny McCormick. He asked me, "Do you seriously want to stay here, all alone?"

"No!" I exclaimed, and then elaborated. "I have been searching for a way out for some time now. But there is no exit. The town is a maze... and I can't see anything beyond it. I'm really scared, and I don't know what to do. There's no food, and I'm exhausted. No matter how long I sleep I still can't gain back any energy. And the day never ends."

"Yeah, this is a very scary place to survive all alone. It's only a fabrication of your imagination, though", he explained.

"I don't understand", I admitted to him.

"Don't be scared, Kyle. You'll find the exit soon enough." Then he evaporated, just like Cartman had.

I twirled around to face Stan. It was only the two of us left. And I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to be alone again.

"Kyle, are you sure you don't know the way out?" he patiently inquired.

"I'm positive. I've been searching for it for days, I'm sure of it. Even if the sun didn't go down and night didn't come. I know it was longer than a couple hours!"

"If you're sure of it, then it must be true. But, think about it. Does it really matter how _long_ you have been searching? I don't think so. I think it only matters how hard you search. You can spend forever searching for something, but you wouldn't find it unless you were truly seeking it."

I thought about that for a moment, and then said, "But I _was_ truly seeking it."

"Is there any confidence in that statement? If it's true, what do you have to show for it?" Since when had Stan become so philosophical?

"I don't know. I don't even know what is and isn't true anymore."

Stan gently smiled and said, "I can help you."

"Then please do."

He replied, "With pleasure." Then he motioned for me to follow him. "Don't be scared. You're not alone anymore. We can find the exit together."

I followed him, walking next to him down the road in the direction of the arrow. He grabbed my hand and said, "We write our own destinies, Kyle. You drew an arrow pointing in this direction, so that's the way the exit will be."

"I don't think so. I've already been down here."

"Yes, I know, but like I just said, we write our own destinies. Take control of your destiny, Kyle. If you keep thinking that you're never going to find the exit, then you never will."

We continued on. In one hand I held Stan's hand, and in my other, I held onto a small bit of hope and belief that Stan was right, and that the exit was in this direction.

This time, I really focused on discovering the exit. I looked down every corner we passed, to make sure we weren't missing it, and I started to really believe with my whole heart that there was actually an exit.

Then I noticed the sun had lowered a little. The day was starting to come to an end! Slowly, but steadily, and I didn't care how slow it was happening. I only cared that it was happening. And I couldn't have been happier.

My hope skyrocketed, and every arrow we passed pointed in the direction we were headed. I glanced at Stan to find that he was already looking at me with a smile on his face.

I finally knew what I had been searching for my entire stay at that haunted ghost town. It _had_ been a way out, but it was more than that. It was the fact that I had never actually believed that there really was a way out. I had only bothered to search because I had a small piece of hope that, by chance, I would stumble upon an egress.

But you can't search for something and expect to find it if you never even truly believed it existed in the first place.

Once I realized that, we stumbled upon a highway, with an infinite amount of speeding cars driving on it. It was the exit! My heart soared, and I looked at Stan.

"You found it", was all he said.

I studied our surroundings, and then it dawned on me that the only way to truly leave the Godforsaken town was to cross the highway. I guess we could just ask the drivers to stop so we could cross.

But after glimpsing at the cars, I realized there _were_ no drivers. They were just being driven on their own accords, and I felt trapped again. There was no way we could make it across.

"The only way out is to cross, isn't it?" I gulped.

Stan nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.

"But that's impossible! The cars are going so fast! We'll be hit for sure."

He looked at me. "Kyle, everything will be alright. If you want to leave, then you will cross."

"You're not coming with me?"

"No. You have to cross on your own."

"I... I can't."

"What's stopping you?"

"I'm scared..."

"Don't be."

"I can't help it."

Stan sighed. "Kyle, find the courage to. You've come this far, you can't just give up now."

"Fuck! I hate this!"

"Do you really want to be stuck here in this town, all alone?"

"No."

"Then you have to cross the road."

"Fuck." I took a step forward, releasing Stan's hand. The cars whipped past me, and the fast air almost blew me over.

I swallowed my fear, or at least half of it, and took another step. I noticed that the sun had set. A day had passed.

After a brief moment of contemplation, I put a toe onto the road that I was so afraid of. Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry.

My heart stopped, and in slow motion, a car sped past me. I almost drew my toe back, but I decided otherwise when it wasn't run over.

Next, I put my whole other foot firmly on the road. Cars swiftly passed me, but miraculously, I wasn't hit. I took another step, and I noticed my fatigue was being replaced by pure energy.

I took another, and another, and another. My hunger was gone, my fatigue was gone, and my fear was slipping farther and farther away each step I took. And never once did a car collide with me.

Before I knew it, I had reached the other side. My heart almost leapt through my chest as I turned around to see my friend's reaction, but he had disappeared. In fact, the whole town had disappeared.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath me disappeared and I was falling. A scream escaped my throat, and my arms flailed around, desperately trying to grasp onto something.

But there was nothing to grasp onto. There was nothing but an infinite blackness surrounding me.

I braced myself for impact with some form of ground at the bottom, but there was no bottom. Or top, for that matter.

Air rushed past me at faster speeds than I could imagine possible. Then I heard his voice. Stan's voice.

"Kyle... please." Please what?

"Stan?" I called out.

"Come on, Kyle. Goddamnit, dude, you can't die!"

I wasn't going to die... or was I? Where was I? Was I in heaven? Or even hell? And where was Stan, then?

"I'm not gonna die, Stan", I tried to say, but no sound came out. My voice had disappeared.

"K-Kyle... dude, please show some signs of life. Don't make the doctors take you off of life support."

Fuck! Life support? What the hell?!? What was happening to me!?!

"Pl-please, dude", he hiccupped. "Wake up..."

Wake up? I had to... wake up.

I had to open my eyes. I shut them and then opened them as hard as I could. I rubbed them, pinched myself, and even tried to scream.

"Kyle... come on... just say something."

I tried to call out to him, but all that came out was a faint whisper. Again and again, I tried.

Wait... if I had to wake up, then this had to be a dream. I was... dreaming... this whole time? It was impossible, but it had to be true.

With that in mind, I attempted to call out to him outside of my dream.

"St-Stan", I tried to activate my vocal cords, but there was some strange force preventing me from doing just that. So I tried over and over again, until I overcame the force.

"Stan!" I yelled, and I knew that I had actually yelled it in real life. I felt the sensation of speech tingle my throat and I couldn't hear myself, so I had to have spoken outside this dream.

"Kyle!" Stan cried out in happiness. That was pure evidence that he had in fact heard me.

I slammed my eyes shut, and then opened them once more. Nothing happened.

I tried again, holding them shut for a few seconds this time. I was still falling, and the sensation felt so real, but I forced myself to truly believe that I was only dreaming, and that everything I had done was only part of a dream. This experience couldn't have been real... nothing about this seemed quite right.

I couldn't have been trapped inside a town by myself. Stan, Cartman and Kenny... they were never that philosophical in real life. If I had_ really_ crossed a highway like that, I would have died for sure.

Then I slowly opened my eyes, all the while believing that this was a dream. And, sure enough, my eyes in real life flew open, too.

I was in a room of white... a hospital most likely. And Stan... he was sitting right beside the bed I was laying on, his head in his hands, looking purely exhausted.

Behind him, on a sofa, lay Cartman fast asleep, and Kenny, also asleep, beside him, with his head resting on Cartman's shoulder.

Next to Kenny was Tweek, who was sleeping with his head in a sleeping Craig's lap, and Craig was leaning against little Butters, who was also fast asleep.

Wendy and Bebe were there, too, asleep together in an armchair in the corner of the room.

Now conscious of my surroundings, I took a good look at myself. I was a complete mess. I was hooked up to numerous machines: IV's, machines that monitored my heart, and even a machine that breathed for me, which was very, _very _uncomfortable.

There was a hole in my stomach that a tube went through, which, obviously, was there to feed me. And there was a bedpan beneath me, which made me want to barf.

Why was I here?

"Stan", I croaked.

He looked up, and my heart shattered when I saw how bloodshot and puffy his eyes were. But they lit up, at the exact instant that he seen my eyes had opened, and that I was conscious.

It seemed like he was about to tell me something, but then he slammed his mouth closed and, instead, jumped up and pulled me into his embrace.

He happily sobbed into my shoulder, and I noticed people behind him stirring. Kenny woke up, his eyes widened when he saw me, and he shook Cartman and Tweek awake before jumping up to come and see me.

Tweek, in turn, shook Craig awake, whose elbow shot out and hit Butters in the forehead, resulting in his awakening. Wendy and Bebe heard everyone rousing, and both ran over to see me.

Soon, everyone was surrounding my bed, asking me if I was okay. I was still being squeezed to death by Stan, and I still didn't even know why I was even in the hospital.

I noticed Kenny whisper something into Wendy's ear, and she nodded and then said, "Guys! Let Kyle breathe. He probably doesn't even remember what happened to him, yet."

Everyone stepped away from the bed, and Stan released me.

"Maybe we should just let Stan talk to him", Craig suggested. They all nodded, and each murmured their own goodbye to me as they walked out the door.

Once the door closed, I looked at Stan, my eyes begging for answers.

"Dude, you've been in a coma for the last two months. No one thought you were gonna make it. But then, three days ago, you started moving your arms and talking, so all of us have been here ever since just waiting for you to wake up", he explained.

"Why was I in a coma?" I whispered.

"Well... you and Kenny were in a car accident. Some drunken bastard was driving on the wrong side of the road and hit you guys head on. Kenny died, but he's back now, and you were too close to death for anyone to want to think about."

I couldn't remember any of it. I couldn't even remember much from before the accident. But I guess that was okay because I didn't really want to remember it. And it didn't matter because I was going to be okay now.

"Dude", I started. "You look like shit." And it was true. He really did. His hair was a tangled mess of greasy, black strands, and the bags under his eyes were dark purple, almost resembling bruises.

"I probably do. But you do, too", he sighed with a slight chuckle. "I should probably get the doc in here, hey?"

"Yeah, probably", I laughed. But I didn't want to see the doctor. I wanted Stan to stay. I wanted to tell him about what it was like in a coma, and how he helped me get out of it. I never wanted him to leave my side.

He pulled me into another awkward hug before leaving to get the doctor. There was a calendar on the wall displaying the month of December. Goddamnit, I really had been in a coma for two months. I couldn't believe that I had wasted two months of my life away by just lying in here, rotting away.

The doctor entered the room with a nurse close behind him who was jotting notes down on a clipboard.

"Good morning", he joked as he recorded various data onto his own clipboard, such as my heart rate.

"Yeah... it's, um, good to be awake again", I replied.

"Must be", the nurse chirped. "All your friends have been worried sick about you, you know."

"Especially that one fellow... Stan, I believe is his name", the doctor joined in.

"Oh yes, Stanley Marsh. He was in here every day to see you, despite the weather. He even skipped school a couple of times", the nurse elaborated.

"He's a good man, Mr. Broflovski", the doc stated.

"Yes, he is! He's the one who noticed the first movement you made. He seems like such a great friend, Kyle. He never left your side for anything other than using the bathroom these last three or four days. Your other friends had to bring him food and force him to eat it", the nurse exclaimed.

I was speechless! He had visited me every day for _two months_?!? And he had never left my side to even eat? Suddenly, I really wanted to see him.

"Can he... come in here, again?" I meekly asked.

"Why sure he can", the doctor said, "Just as soon as we finish recording this data."

"You know", the nurse whispered to me. "It's a miracle that you came out of this coma."

No, it wasn't a miracle. It was Stan.

They finished up quickly, for they must have seen the eager look in my eyes. And as soon as they brought Stan in, I couldn't help but smile.

He had showered and changed his clothes and was smiling back at me.

I didn't know what to say. It was because of him that I had woken up. I could have thanked him nonstop, and showered him in my eternal gratitude, but instead, I just kept smiling.

"Everyone else went to get coffees, but I decided to stay here... I don't really feel like coffee", he told me, but I know that wasn't the reason he didn't go. He wanted to stay here with me, so I wasn't alone.

"Thanks", I murmured, "for not giving up on me."

Stan smiled, and I motioned for him to sit next to me on the bed. He did, and he wrapped his arm around me. I laid my head on his shoulder, and we sat together like that for what could have been forever for all I care.

I couldn't remember when I finally fell asleep, but I do remember that Stan never left. When I awoke from a normal sleep for the first time since before my coma, Stan was sleeping next to me, with his arms wrapped around me, and our bodies intertwined.

I didn't have to worry anymore. I know knew that I had someone who will always be there to make sure I was alright, and to deliver me to safety. And, from now on, I would do the same for him.

I snuggled into his sleeping form, feeling safer than ever before, and held onto him, never wanting to let go. But even if I did, I wouldn't be scared. I know now that I will never be alone like I was in the town again. Stan would always be there with me.

**

* * *

**

_A/N: And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my very first attempt to write a fic. Well, I don't know how you guys liked it, but I would appreciate it if you left a review on your way out. :) Maybe a nice one, pretty please? Thanks for reading!_


End file.
